


A Little Push

by bcole4



Category: Fall Out Boy, Panic! at the Disco
Genre: M/M, PWP, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-04
Updated: 2014-02-04
Packaged: 2018-01-11 03:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1167918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bcole4/pseuds/bcole4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Okay, but you don’t lube up when you, like, go to the bathroom. Which is kind of the same thing.”</p><p>“That’s fucking disgusting,” Pete responds.</p><p>“It’s not the same thing,” Ryan says. </p><p>(In which Brendon finds out some interesting info about Ryan and acts on it.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Little Push

**Author's Note:**

> Avoiding homework+the Panic concert last week+super boredom=pointless smut! Enjoy :)
> 
> NOTE: Totally unedited, I literally wrote this in an hour and a half and put it up. So if there are issues, please let me know. As usual, comments are the bomb!

“I swear to God, you have to! It sucks otherwise. Like, really sucks. The sex isn’t good at all,” Pete assures the bus.  
  
“That’s such bullshit. I highly doubt it’s a necessity.” Patrick tries to sound indifferent, but Brendon can tell he’s incredulous and a little uncomfortable. Brendon doesn’t really feel bad for him, though. He brought it upon himself. One second Panic and Fall Out Boy were having a normal conversation about homosexual relationships, and then Patrick just had to ask if lube was _really_ necessary for it to work.  
  
“It’s a necessity,” Brendon assures him. He thinks for a second about how awkward it must be for Patrick, the only totally straight guy in this conversation. Brent, Andy, and Joe had been around for a while, but when the conversation got explicit Joe and Brent had gone off somewhere to smoke and Andy just left, rolling his eyes and muttering something about common decency.  
  
“Okay, but you don’t lube up when you, like, go to the bathroom. Which is kind of the same thing.”  
  
“That’s fucking disgusting,” Pete responds.  
  
“It’s not the same thing,” Ryan says.  
  
Everyone looks at Ryan in surprise. Even Ryan looks taken aback that he spoke. Through the whole conversation, he’d been sitting back, looking between the three boys with the trademark Ryan Ross bored expression. Not that Brendon had been, like, paying attention. Because he hadn’t been, in case anyone was interested.  
  
“How the hell would you know?” Patrick asks. “It’s not like you bottom.”  
  
Brendon wonders if that was a common thought about Ryan. Brendon, for his part, doesn’t like to think much about Ryan having sex with guys. Or, if he’s being honest, he likes thinking about it a little _too_ much. But that kind of shit makes things complicated, so he usually stops that train of thought before it starts. But if he _had_ to think about it, you know, _analytically_ , he guesses that Patrick is probably right.  
  
Ryan just stays quiet, then makes a weird choking noise and promptly leaves the bus.  
  
After a short pause, Patrick clears his throat and says, “I’m gonna go check on Joe. I don’t want him to be totally stoned tonight.”  
  
Pete just nods as Patrick leaves. He pulls out his Sidekick and checks his texts.  
  
Brendon takes this opportunity to get the ultimate opinion from the sage of intercourse himself. So he asks Pete, “Do you think Ryan bottoms?”  
  
Pete doesn’t even look up from his phone when he says, “I know he does.”  
  
Brendon’s brain screeches to a halt. Maybe Pete isn’t the sage of intercourse. Brendon has never _once_ thought of Ryan as a bottom. When he allows himself to think about it, Ryan is always over him, exerting an overwhelming amount of control…  
  
Okay. Off that thought. Brendon has more pressing matters to attend to right now. “How the hell do you _know_ he bottoms?”  
  
“Because he’s bottomed for me.” Pete says it like it’s the most well-known fact in the world, but Brendon’s brain explodes. Seriously, he looks around to make sure there isn’t any splatter from the giant explosion that just took place in his forehead.  
  
“Ryan Ross has… bottomed… for you,” Brendon says, slowly, making sure he’s got it right, because it really does not seem right.  
  
“Yeah,” Pete says. “Why? You wanna have a go?”  
  
“Oh god, uh. No. Thanks for the offer though,” Brendon responds, sufficiently grossed out. “Anyway, I thought you were gay above the waist.”  
  
“Here’s the thing, Brenny boy,” Pete says, finally putting his phone down and looking at Brendon. “It’s all about fluidity. That’s the best sexuality to have. I just like whoever does it for me. And Ryan… Ryan _did_ it for me.”  
  
Brendon tries to ignore the fact that Pete just made Ryan sound like a prostitute and he’s not sure it was an accident. Instead, he presses forward with the world's most awkward conversation. “So you and him aren’t… like…”  
  
“Together? God no. This was so long ago. Like, when we all first met. Why?” And then realization lights Pete’s face. “Oh my god. It’s not me. It’s _Ryan_. You wanna be with Ryan.”  
  
“No,” Brendon says, too quickly and too loudly. He’s the worst liar ever, and anyway, Pete could see through anything he says at this point.  
  
“Oh my god.” Pete’s laughing at this point. “This is gold. Pure _gold_.”  
  
“Can you not, Pete? And also let’s just never tell anyone about this, especially Ryan.”  
  
Pete’s still laughing. “Wanna know why me and Ryan aren’t together anymore? Jesus, this is the best.”  
  
“Fine, whatever,” Brendon says. Anything to get Pete to shut up.  
  
“Okay, okay,” Pete says, slowing his breath. When he calms down, he says, with a smile on his face, “The last night Ryan and I had sex, he didn’t say my name when he came. He said yours.”  
  
And that is. Wow. Aside from being a little too much information, that is great to hear. Beyond great. “Wow.”  
  
“Yeah, it was a shitty night. There was a fight and everything. He said he didn’t say it, but he definitely did. We didn’t talk for weeks after.”  
  
“I gotta go,” Brendon says, feeling a little hazy.  
  
“What the hell? We were having a great convers- oh. _Oh._ Yeah, go. Have fun. Use protection.”  
  
Pete is still laughing when Brendon steps off the bus.  
  
\---  
  
Brendon is sitting in the lounge of his own bus, still a little shell-shocked. He’s got his laptop, and he’s trying to distract himself but it really isn’t working. All he can think about is Ryan moaning his name in bed with another guy. It turns him on so much. He tries, but he can’t stop thinking about it. He can’t calm down. Then it’s time for them to get changed and play their set.  
  
He fumbles with all of his clothes and he keeps watching Ryan, who takes positively forever to change, so eventually it’s just Brendon and Ryan in the dressing room.  
  
Ryan looks over at Brendon, who’s still trying to button his shirt, and laughs. “Having some trouble there, B?”  
  
And that monotone just does something to him, after he’s spent most of the day half-hard, and he really can’t help it. He walks quickly over to the other side of the dressing room, shirt still mostly unbuttoned, pulls Ryan close, and kisses him.  
  
Ryan pulls away after a split second, which makes Brendon’s stomach drop until he realizes that Ryan actually isn’t _moving_ away.  
  
“What are you doing?” Ryan whispers. “I mean, this is real. Do you want this? If you don’t, you have to stop it. Now. Because if you kiss me again, I’m not going to be able to stop.”  
  
“You talk too goddamn much,” Brendon whines, then he kisses Ryan again.  
  
When Ryan kisses him back, it’s like the heavens have opened up. Brendon can’t get enough of Ryan’s lips, his tongue, the soft noises coming from the back of his throat. He presses as close as he can to Ryan, needing any kind of contact he can get. This causes Ryan to back up until his back is against the wall. Brendon crowds against him, not pulling away for anything. He thinks maybe he could kiss Ryan forever. It’s as simple as breathing, but it’s much more enjoyable.  
  
Then Ryan’s sharp hips push against Brendon’s, and the noises he’s making turn ever so slightly to moans. And this is… different. Brendon responds mostly without thinking, grinding down hard on Ryan as he moves his mouth from Ryan’s lip to his neck.  
  
“Fuck, Brendon, your mouth,” Ryan breathes, just barely audible, and it turns Brendon on even more that he’s being so quiet.  
  
“So beautiful,” Brendon responds, pushing his hips hard into Ryan’s. Ryan grips Brendon’s hair.  
  
“We should stop,” Ryan says, and Brendon momentarily freaks out before Ryan continues through heavy breaths, “Gonna come soon. These are… the only pants I have for this show. And you’re… gonna give… me a hickey.”  
  
Brendon pulls away, as much as he hates to. But he understands. Ryan’s face already gives away that something’s been going on. His lips are red and a little swollen and his eyes are half-lidded and dark.  
  
“Tonight,” Brendon says. It’s a promise, not a question.  
  
“Yeah, in the hotel. God, I want you to fuck me so bad.”  
  
Brendon really can’t help the moan that escapes his mouth. Not that he cares, because it causes Ryan to pull his face to his and kiss him hard. They make out until Spencer comes by the dressing room, knocks, and yells “Five minutes, fuckers!”  
  
As Brendon and Ryan adjust themselves, Brendon thanks whatever god he can that Spencer didn’t come in.  
  
\---  
  
The hotel is crap. There’s no way to deny it. It’s musty, it’s hot, and the bed is hard as a rock.  
  
Not that that really matters since Ryan is under Brendon, bucking up against Brendon’s stomach. They’re kissing with some ferocity, all teeth and tongues. It’s sloppy, but neither of them care. They’re too busy running their hands through each other’s hair and moaning against each other’s lips.  
  
Ryan tugs at the hem of Brendon’s tee-shirt. “Off,” Ryan whines, and Brendon figures that if Ryan keeps talking like that, he’ll do anything Ryan wants. He yanks his shirt off, and Ryan follows with his own. The kissing doesn’t start up again immediately after because Brendon is too busy running his fingertips down Ryan’s ridiculously skinny torso. Ryan doesn’t seem to care. He seems too interested in Brendon’s arms. They stay like that, marveling at each other for a few moments, before Ryan says, “You still have too many clothes on.”  
  
He reaches for Brendon’s jeans and slowly opens them. Brendon can’t tell if he’s nervous or teasing, but when Ryan wrestles them off and kisses Brendon deeply, sweetly, it doesn’t matter much. Brendon returns the favor for Ryan, slowly pulling his jeans off, which is really hard because they’re so tight.  
  
“Your jeans are too tight,” Brendon complains.  
  
“Shut up, you love it,” Ryan says, still maintaining his sarcasm.  
  
Brendon kind of does, so he kisses Ryan again.  
  
When they’re totally naked (Ryan is _naked_ in front of him, holy _shit_ ), Brendon moves his hips experimentally along Ryan’s. And holy crap. The friction of their erections dragging against each other is almost too much. Ryan hasn’t even touched him and Brendon doesn’t know if he can make it.  
  
“B, good god,” Ryan whimpers, and Brendon thinks Ryan’s probably got the same idea.  
  
He pulls out the complimentary lotion they nabbed from the bathroom and uses it to start stroking Ryan. After a few seconds, which include Ryan pretty recklessly fucking Brendon’s hand, Brendon puts a bit more lotion on his fingers and presses slowly into Ryan. Ryan arches his back and grips the sheets and, fuck, if that’s how he’s reacting already, this is gonna be a good night.  
  
“More,” Ryan begs, and Brendon is not an asshole, so he adds another finger. He twists, just the right amount, and hits just the right spot. Ryan yelps. Brendon laughs, and he’s surprised at how husky his voice is.  
  
“Come on, just get in already,” Ryan whines after only a few seconds, and Brendon’s scared that it’s going to hurt, but then he remembers the way Pete had said ‘He used to bottom for me,’ and somehow Brendon thinks Ryan knows what’s good for him. So he pulls out his fingers and starts putting lotion on his cock.  
  
“Brendon, I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me right now I’m gonna fucking flip,” Ryan says, trying to keep his voice even, and that’s enough for Brendon. He wraps Ryan’s legs around him and pushes into Ryan, maybe a bit too fast because Ryan groans loudly. But when Brendon stops, Ryan says, “What the hell are you doing? Move.” And of course Brendon does.  
  
And when he starts to move, it’s damn near overwhelming. Ryan’s tight, and every time he moans, he clenches around Brendon. It takes Brendon a few seconds to be able to see straight, and when he does, he grips Ryan’s wrists and thrusts hard into Ryan. It makes the bed move, and Brendon’s afraid he’s hurt Ryan, but all Ryan does is whisper, “Yes,” and Brendon does it again. When it gets the same response, Brendon stops holding back completely.  
  
He pushes hard, past the pain in his abs and thighs, past the blinding pleasure he gets from Ryan whining. It was about lust before, but it’s something bigger now, something more primal. Ryan strains against Brendon’s hands, and it seems to make him happy when he can’t get free. He lifts up as much as he can to kiss Brendon, and Brendon kisses back, gently. It’s strange, the soft kiss against the roughest sex Brendon’s ever given in his life.  
  
“Are you okay?” Brendon asks, his voice breathy, still pounding into Ryan. “If this is too much…”  
  
“God no, this is perfect. Just… Don’t stop,” Ryan says, moaning the word “stop”. It’s hot, hotter than anything Brendon’s ever heard, and he just goes harder, knowing he’s going to bruise something of Ryan’s. He adjusts his angle so he’s hitting Ryan head-on in just the right spot, and Ryan cries Brendon’s name.  
  
Brendon’s close, too close, getting closer with every noise Ryan’s making. Suddenly, Ryan cries, “Brendon, I’m gonna…” and he comes hard between them without touching himself.  
  
Brendon fucks him through it, making sure he’s completely finished before he comes, hard, vision whiting out. He thrusts blindly, jerking through it. “Ryan,” he whispers, and in his blissed-out state he realizes that it’s the best thing he’s ever heard. “Ryan, Ryan, god, Ryan…”  
  
He pulls out and somehow finds the strength to clean both of them off with his tee shirt. He collapses next to Ryan as soon as he can, and Ryan curls into him.  
  
“My ass hurts. Like, really bad.”  
  
“Are you complaining? You just got the best fuck I could possibly give you,” Brendon says extravagantly.  
  
“Yeah yeah,” Ryan says sarcastically, but he’s smiling. “So. What is this?”  
  
“What do you want it to be?” Brendon replies.  
  
“Honest?”  
  
“Honest.”  
  
“Real. Like, a real thing. Exclusive. All that kinda stuff. I’ve wanted you for a long time, B. I don’t wanna give you up. Especially not after that.”  
  
Brendon hadn’t really thought about it before, but now that he’s actually had Ryan, he wants it to be real. Then again, maybe he just hadn’t let himself think about it, because now it seems like the easiest thing in the world to say, “Yeah, that sounds good. Yes.”  
  
“Good. Goodnight, B.”  
  
“Goodnight, Ry.”


End file.
